Tribute to DDL Roundhouse

Came to the party late because DDL Roundhouse came together for the last time on July 16th in Pasadena. This also marked the very first time I saw them live.

DDL Roundhouse had a bunch of elements --- a nine-piece band: a DJ, a drummer, a keyboardist, a singer, MC's, a bassist, a guitarist, a trumpeteer.

From what I remember reading an old description, their name is based on a Street Fighter move --- the Hurricane Kick executed by the characters Ryu and Ken. DDL Roundhouse stands for the buttons you'd press to execute the most powerful hurricane kick. "DDL" stands for Down, Down, Left, and the Roundhouse is the Roundhouse kick, the button C if you had a Sega Genesis.

They were an LA-based group and cranked out jazzy hip-hop. I really think that they deserved better promotion, and more shows.

I'm proud to say I went to school and was friends with what was their keyboardist and resident beatboxer --- Jason. Surely enough his last show brought me back with a few of my high school buds from way.

I really liked a few of their songs and overdid the replay button on a few:





The one below was my favorite.

Find more D.D.L. Roundhouse albums at Myspace Music

Hopefully DDL's just kidding about the final show and this was just the start to get serious about marketing themselves more.

Junto a mi

Remake of an ole classic en espanglais.

Summer of the Nutty Professor 2---Thousand

Man.

Mother.

Fuckin'

High

School.

I came to this very elite Los Angeles high school with very high expectations of myself; then I quickly found out that I was a no one.

There was always someone smarter, more athletic, more unique than me...what place did I have?

I was just another Filipino kid, what I perceived to be a marginal, don't-participate-in-class-maligned "8:15-2:20 student." And I wasn't even that good as just a student.

The year 2000 marked the middle of my term at this high school. A time of intense identity searching.

Some highlights:

• My godsister Cheryl was at the height of her coolness: she graduated high school! And she was having this watergun fight called Waterfest...the first year we had it at rinky dink "dirty" Griffith Park, this year we had it at the "cleaner," official cool place in the Valley where the pookashells, chinese character bracelets, and raver kids were out in full force. There was this kid named Richie with the biggest nose but had the coolest raver moves ever.
  

I was reminded of a Ghostface Killah song:



And this:

A Rap that Launched a Love Affair

con hip-hop.



1995, Summer.

I took this song, and said I was going to be a hip-hop fan. I was going to listen to Power 106. I was going to be one of the cool kids like those kids in the 8th grade, Cheryl's grade. If I memorized this song, I would officially have my pass.

I could be invited to their clique, their partiessssyeah didn't happen.

On the song itself, I couldn't tell if Coolio was trying to send a good message or a bad message.

But I got hooked by the visuals of the music video :

-Coolio's standing dreadlocks
-intense ass L.V. sweating his ass off in smoke and what looks to be like pain
-all the eses in the movie cuts
-the dude in the Dickies shirt being blocked out on MTV and BET because I thought it meant something bad when it was really them not wanting to advertise Dickies; I thought Dickies was gangster-wear from then out; starting wearing Dickies myself in '06 when I got them at the thrift store for cheap
-yelling Chicano student at the end

Gangsta's Paradise, 1995.

I desperately wanted to let everyone know that this is what I was down with.

I officially began to assert my newfound hardcore, hard-riding hip-hop identity at the local Disneyland for my sister's 8th birthday by telling some white person named Doug standing in line that "rock music and KROQ sucked."

Of course my 11-year old self assuming that said white person was indeed into "rock music and KROQ."

This all coincided with/facilitated me suddenly watching Family Matters so much, In the House with Coolio, Fresh Prince...yyy, I started to loved anything to do with black people, and that included my first favorite woman...Tyra Banks, foo!

Looking back at all this 15 years later, hey, sort of a dated song, but not a bad song to get into, gracias Coolio.

Somewhat relevant to me today.

Back to 199...

2.

Los Angeles, CA.

Post LA Riots. Post Chicago Bulls second championship.

My parents were renting our first house in the LA community known as Atwater Village.

Just had my 8th birthday.

The first time I [was privileged enough] to sleep in my own room, though I was scared. My dad had his artists' desk there and was attending art school; was always up late and doing something mind-blowing.

What I remember about Summer that year: the development of my love for basketball. My daily dose of activities included watching the Olympics, developing my skills on my 8-foot basketball hoop (of course made that tall by standing it on a chair), rewinding and re-watching a video cassette tape of Game 6 of the 1992 NBA Finals (complete with Mo' Money in Theaters ads), collecting basketball cards with Cheryl.

For some reason, I remember this song always playing, very prominently.